


coincidences, the cosmos, and other uncertain things

by deadmemewalking



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Gen, Multi, Team as Family, klance only if you squint, shiro is tired don't blame him, universe as narrator, writing experiment, yes all at one time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 17:19:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15756270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadmemewalking/pseuds/deadmemewalking
Summary: Shiro the tired and over-caffienated barista vs. the universe.aka, team voltron finds their way back together.





	coincidences, the cosmos, and other uncertain things

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a writing experiment and also because Shiro as an oblivious barista amuses me.
> 
> sorry for all the introspection, my Hindu philosophy class is getting to me

Shiro's never deluded himself into thinking that his life has some higher purpose. 

He decided, early on, while his mother swore at their broken stove in frustration and his dad was holed away in his office like he could escape reality, that Shiro would do what it takes to survive. 

Optimism is nice, especially when it carries you on a full scholarship into an 8 year graduate program, but also terribly difficult to maintain when some middle-aged white lady is yelling about how she asked for skim milk in her coffee, not 2%. Shiro channels his trademark patience and nods amiably  _ 'of course I'll make you another one free of charge, ma'am' _ , and so goes about his day. He doesn't spare the cosmos another thought, though perhaps, he should have.

~~~

Similarly, half-way across the world, in a glass high-rise with automated everything and enough designer watches to pay for Shiro's graduate program, Allura Altea is contemplating life. 

It's not very typical of her, to be slacking off during a board meeting, but some legacy CEO acting like his company  _ doesn't _ depend on the success of his father's has been talking for approximately five hours, and she's just about reached her breaking point.

The view outside the window changes everyday, with new buildings growing over night, but still, is the same one she's been gazing at for nineteen years. Her pantsuit is stuffy and the top-floor office is even stuffier, and maybe she can't change one of those things, but she can get the hell out. 

Her plane ticket is booked in the next hour. 

~~~ 

Cosmic coincidences, some call them. Events that appear unrelated at first glance, but are somehow connected by the strings of time, woven across the universe, bringing people and places together with some greater meaning behind it all. 

Or maybe it's just luck. 

~~~ 

It's pure luck, of the bad variety, that Lance sleeps through his alarm and has to scramble to get ready for his 8 AM lecture across campus. Definitely not because he stayed up late watching cat videos instead on his phone, absolutely not. 

It's also luck, bad or good he hasn't quite figured out yet, that said 8 AM lecture was cancelled for unknown reasons; but Lance still thanks Professor Coran's notorious reputation for scheduling issues and leaves it at that. 

Now awake, freezing, and just shy of grumpy, he treks to the campus coffee shop for a well-deserved cup of Monday Morning coffee. Treat yo' self, and all that.

The line is long and the barista is clearly on the wrong side of the counter, but warmth seeps into Lance's frozen fingers, so he decides to wait it out instead of braving the wind chill. 

It's just as well that he did. 

~~~ 

As it turns out, Professor Coran is  _ not _ to blame for the scheduling hurdle, thank you very much. His favorite goddaughter- and only goddaughter, not that it matters, really- has just informed him of her impromptu visit to the states, and what kind of godfather would Coran be if he didn't offer to pick her up? Don't answer; it's a rhetorical question. 

He's pondering her sudden and unprecedented decision to fly across the Atlantic, twirling his mustache in the crowded airport, but he's never been quite able to figure Allura out. She has a fiery streak to match stubborn wit, a mix of her mother and father, and he misses the girl dearly.

It's all for the better, then, he concludes. His 8 AM class will just have to wait. Maybe he'll treat her to some local coffee- a much more effective alternative to tea, even he can admit. 

~~~ 

Hunk happens to be taking some well deserved rest, warm and cozy beneath his blankets, though the standard dorm mattress leaves a little to be desired. 

He's dreaming, though it doesn't quite matter if it's a significant dream or not, because he'll forget upon awakening, and subsequently lose any vestiges of it while searching for his phone among the mess on the floor. 

And when he recovers said phone, taken apart and put back together by skilled hands- because that's half the fun, in Hunk's defense- he'll see several notifications from Lance: an invitation to join him at the local coffee shop before class. 

It was a spot of fortune, meeting Lance so early on, his platonic soulmate- metaphorical of course- because Hunk doesn't really believe in fate or destiny or any of that stuff. He prefers hard facts, things he can see and touch and prove. 

~~~ 

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away... 

there once were seven heroes, brought together by some unknown force or a series of coincidences or quite possibly both. 

~~~ 

In stark contrast, Keith is wide awake, and questioning why  _ exactly _ this happens to be true, when he has no classes to speak of. 

He's more prone to cursing the sad series of events that lead him to his current predicament- alone in a library before opening, red creases from the book pages pressed into his cheeks- than to question the force behind them. 

The only logical conclusion for wandering ex-college students is that coffee is of utmost importance, a habit ingrained by all-nighters and a particular throbbing in the temples that only caffeine can chase away. Keith doesn't mind feeding into a capitalist economy if his over-priced coffee does the job. 

He beelines for the local coffee shop, where the barista currently on call has a sweet spot for previously mentioned wandering ex-college students, and thinks nothing else of it. 

~~~ 

Among them, Katie is probably the most likely to wonder about the complexities of the universe. She's the only one with both the brain-power and actual free time to spend on things other than grocery shopping and mustache-grooming. 

Fifteen year-old college students are uncommon, and fifteen year-old tech geniuses even more so. If that wasn't coincidence enough, then what is? 

Katie, however, is too far invested in a project involving campus security and artificial intelligence- born from pure spite over freshman not having access to advanced labs- to think about that; which is for the better, all things considered. 

Said project requires lots of time and sleep supplements, so she rubs her eyes and goes on a scheduled visit to the nearest source of caffeine. 

If it happened to be the campus coffee shop, would you honestly be surprised? 

~~~ 

Some people say coincidences are the universe's way of interfering with human lives. Other, less philosophical people say they're just chance. 

Chance for what, exactly? 

~~~ 

Behind the counter, Shiro thinks, is the worst place to be. 

He doesn't have the time to ponder the complexities of the universe; he doesn't even have time to think about the complexities of espresso- though in hindsight, he probably should, since at least five double-majors have ordered double-shots. He's beyond caring about the heart rates of his customers, it's much better for his own sanity that way. 

Greatness isn't exactly in the cards for him right now- not with piles of uncompleted thesis research and equally daunting stacks of housing bills sitting on his desk- though isn't that what everyone seems to think? He's not quite sure if people even know what greatness looks like until they have it, tangible, like the weight of a diploma or the taste of gold between teeth. 

It's a special kind of greatness, serving coffee from 6 to 10 AM, even if it's not the kind he used to dream of. 

With that steely and bitter resolve, he greets the next customers. Two guys, with slouching shoulders that give Shiro vivid flashbacks to sophomore year, but despite the stress and weariness hanging off of them like blankets, they greet him with twin smiles. 

It's refreshing and unexpected, and tugs something in his chest, wiggling a cork from the neck of a bottle as it just begins to come loose. 

He makes their drinks with a touch of sympathy and instinctual kindness, the kind he saves for the people closest to him. He's not sure where the urge comes from, but it feels  _ right _ . 

Shiro maintains that he would've realized then if he had less coffee in his system and everything didn't feel heavily saturated with meaning.

~~~ 

In ancient Hindu texts are theories about rebirth, about the soul living on after the body dies. Why, you might ask, why would it do that? Doesn't it get enough of this Earth the first time around? 

~~~ 

His patience nearly fades when a man in a black suit asks why they don't carry Coolatas. Shiro kindly tells him that  _ this is not a Dunkin Donuts, sorry for the inconvenience _ , biting back an inquiry as to why a middle-aged business man is at a campus coffee shop.  _ Patience yields focus. _

Salvation comes in the form of an orange mustache and long curls dyed white. The older man and a young woman have matching accents, ones that seem too refined and poised for water and ground up beans, but then the girl asks what the difference between coffee and espresso is, so Shiro thinks it doesn't really matter. 

He can respect her humble curiosity the way he can respect her good posture and put-together outfit. He can even admire the guts it takes to walk around with an orange handlebar mustache. 

The feeling is enjoyable, being pleasantly surprised by a couple strangers, but it tickles something in the back of his mind, like deja vu for emotions. 

It's easy to brush off a second time. 

~~~ 

If you lost something you once loved, would you go back for it? Just to see it one more time?

~~~ 

The rest of his shift is spent eagerly waiting to abandon the coffee machine and simultaneously dreading the work waiting back home. No rest for the weary, he supposes. 

It's nice to see a certain broody face, one he can actually recognize as familiar. Shiro's got a little bit of a sweet spot for the kid, even he can admit- but something about his fiery eyes and messy too-long hair tugged on his heart strings, like seeing a long lost childhood friend. 

He orders a usual black coffee and looks like he needs it. Shiro chuckles good-naturedly, "You're too young to look dead inside, Keith." 

Keith just grumbles something under his breath, trying to smother a smile, and takes his coffee. The whole exchange feels practiced, like muscle memory, but Shiro chalks it up to actually knowing the kid. 

It's a testament to how much sleep post-grads lack that he doesn't realize right then. 

He gets one more chance, or coincidence maybe, though Shiro is completely unaware of said chances. 

The next customer is so short only her face and neck are visible above the counter. Her crazy brown hair and large circle glasses are childlike, and drastically contrast the dark crescents beneath her eyes. He wonders when they started letting kids into college. 

She orders a double-shot, and something in Shiro wants to protest, even though she's a complete stranger. Big brotherly instinct, maybe, but he's been a single child his whole life. 

Still, as she walks away with cup of large coffee, and the glint of her glasses still flashes on his eyes, he doesn't connect the dots. 

The universe must be face palming. 

~~~ 

Destiny is a strange thing. 

Are you destined to be someone, do something? Or does destiny inspire you do make those decisions for yourself?

~~~ 

It's funny, how the little things seem to do it. Shiro will look back on this moment with amusement and a healthy dose of exasperation, because  _ really? _ Nonetheless, everyone and their grandmother is glad it finally happened. 

Shiro is taking off his apron at the end of his shift; it's navy blue and generously stained by coffee, with "Castle Coffee" embroidered in tacky white font. One of the previously mentioned stains sits right over his crotch area, which is rather unfortunate, but just another sad coincidence in Shiro's life. 

Upon closer inspection, the brown splotches vaguely resemble a lion's face. It's funny, Shiro thinks, what are the chances, and then- 

(-streaking through Earth's atmosphere in an alien pod, only one word on his lips-) 

(-looking up at a massive blue lion, technology beyond anything he could imagine, a fresh breath of air in his lungs-) 

(-four cadets, two aliens, and him, seven against the world with a magical alien robot defender on their side-) 

(-hundreds of planets saved, hundreds of planets fallen, the whole universe resting on their shoulders-)

-it all comes rushing back. 

"Oh," he mumbles. " _ Oh. _ " 

~~~ 

Some things carry from one lifetime to the next. Maybe posture, or laughing eyes, or love.

~~~ 

When they come together for the second- or third or thousandth- time, it's not unlike forming Voltron. 

They're all squished into a booth in the back, pressed close together not only out of necessity. Some things are different, many things are the same; Shiro finds his eyes don't catch on the variances any more than the twin light in all their eyes. 

Keith and Lance, always a duo, are sitting so close it must be uncomfortable, not even being subtle about their hands clasped together underneath the table. Pidge is wedged tightly between Hunk and Allura, and intermittently switches which arm she leans on after they confiscated her coffee. It feels like family. 

Shiro has been focusing on one part of the puzzle this entire time, where a few pieces were missing, and now he's zoomed out, seeing the whole picture. How many times have they been separated, how many times will they come back together again? 

"I could've been in the U.K. right now," Allura comments, casual. 

"I could've been sleeping! What if I slept through this?" Hunk sounds almost panicky, and Lance reaches across the table to squeeze his hand. 

"But you didn't. We're all here, somehow." 

How exactly, Shiro isn't quite sure. He doesn't bother questioning it- the universe, destiny, coincidences- being grateful is enough. 

They were heroes before, the universe-defending kind, and maybe they're still heroes now, albeit in a different way. 

There's greatness in them, after all. 

~~~ 

_ "We're all made up of the same cosmic dust." _

  
  



End file.
